


Quick Learner

by seriousfic



Category: Frozen (2013), Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Aunt-Niece Relationship, F/F, Incest, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Snow Queen has much to teach Elsa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first night with Ingrid—her _aunt_ —in the castle. Back in the castle, Elsa should say. Her _aunt._ She’d instructed the porter to give Ingrid a room near her own. Anna had already claimed the room immediately left of hers, greeting her every morning until the day she’d left on her voyage. The right, though, was still empty.

 

Elsa thought that with the both of them in that wing of the castle, they might not even bother trying to heat it.

 

There’d been as exuberant celebration as Elsa could throw for Ingrid on absolutely no notice, but Ingrid had quickly retired, claiming fatigue. Elsa understood completely, although she still felt compelled to threaten Ingrid with a feast in the coming days. Either for herself or for Anna’s safe return.

 

But then trying to sleep with her mother’s sister just next door, time moved in skips and gulps, clinging to her hands instead of running through her fingers. She sat up finally, just before the dawn, and gathered her robes tightly around her. The thought had occurred to her that Ingrid might be awake as well. Holding her clothes shut, she slipped out of her door and over to Ingrid’s.

 

Elsa’s fist hovered up on the door, casting its shadow in the pristine white paint. If Ingrid was asleep, would she wake her? Could she just barge in? Elsa lowered her hand to the doorknob. When she tried it, it was unlocked. She would just peek inside to see if Ingrid was as excited as her. The door moved swiftly and certainly, and there was a crack for Elsa to put her eye to. She looked inside, not sure if she was hoping that Ingrid was sleeping peacefully or that she was awake for Elsa to talk to.

 

Then she saw Ingrid. On the bed, but not asleep. She was naked, her ice crystal dress dispelled into the atmosphere, replaced by pearls of sweat. Elsa didn’t know that people like them could sweat, but she’d never been as possessed as Ingrid was. Hands locked between her legs like she was trying to hold something in, breath pitching her belly from concave to convex, heaving her breasts about like ships on a stormy sea, making her lips part and music of sighs and moans come out…

 

Pleasure. She wasn’t sick or hurt or in pain. She was feeling absolute pleasure. And it reached its zenith, a white-hot flush going through Ingrid’s body, the sweat on her body trailing off into icicles. Elsa felt a delicious chill, like a normal person going from the heat of a stuffy house to the relief of a cool breeze. It was as if Ingrid had conjured up one of the dreams that sometimes seemed to turn Elsa inside out with a want for something she couldn’t voice.

 

Elsa closed the door and hoped desperately that Ingrid hadn’t seen her.

 

***

 

The day before, she’d almost begged Ingrid to have breakfast with her. Ingrid had just acquiesced too quickly for her to get down on her knees. Now, clad in a freshly conjured dress, the Snow Queen joined Elsa in her chambers. The porters, somewhat fearful, brought them their food and left in a rush.

 

After a good night’s sleep—and the other thing—Ingrid seemed more eager to enjoy Elsa’s hospitality. Elsa could barely breathe, watching her neatly wield the utensils, cutting up her ham and losing it between twisting lips.

 

Ingrid was beautiful, but with Elsa’s looks—no rosy cheeks or auburn hair, just pale sweet skin and white-gold hair. Elsa wondered if someone else would think she was beautiful; of course they would. She herself had been a freak and a monster, but she guessed she was beautiful too. She felt certain Ingrid was. Seeing her now--who could be horrified by Ingrid? Who could not want her love?

 

“I hope you didn’t have anything important to tell me last night you felt had to wait,” Ingrid said, now helping herself to a steaming dose of coffee.

 

“Last night?” Elsa asked, all of her control keeping her from stammering as her sister would.

 

“When you visited me. I was somewhat indisposed, as you could see.”

 

Elsa jerked her eyes to the ground. “I hardly meant to disturb you…”

 

“Nonsense. It was nothing to be embarrassed by. It’s just that after so long in that urn, I was quite tense. I needed to relieve myself.”

 

Elsa halfheartedly reached for a spoon, like she could eat at a time like this, before returning her hand to her lap. “Relieve yourself?”

 

Ingrid reached out to place a pair of fingers on Elsa’s chin—her touch wonderfully light, not burning into her like other people’s—and she redirected Elsa’s eyes to her. “You are aware of what I was doing, aren’t you, niece?”

 

“I… yes, of course. You were relieving yourself!” Elsa stated confidently.

 

Ingrid laughed behind her hand. “As I relieve myself of my hunger?” she asked gently, taking a delicate bite of her muffin. “Or as I relieve myself of thirst?” She took another sip of her coffee.

 

“No, this was more… pleasant.”

 

“It was very pleasant,” Ingrid assured her. “Elsa, how much do you know about sex?”

 

Elsa flashed heatedly—something about that word, said in Ingrid’s calm tones, in this domestic setting. “I’m a grown woman! I know about sex!”

 

“I’m sure you do. But from books and educators, or from your own experience?”

 

Elsa looked away, resisting the urge to pout. If this were Anna she were dealing with, a good pout would enlist Anna to try cheering her up. She could act frustrated with it for a bit before giving in, letting Anna tickle her, challenge her to snowball fight, drag her along hand in hand to find Olaf…

 

“I imagine your problem has made it hard to take a lover. Or rather, the problem others have with you.” She reached across the table to take Elsa’s hand. “With us.”

 

Elsa fell into an arch voice. “I may not know much about sex,” she stated, “but I know it requires two people.”

 

Ingrid raised her eyebrow in teasing mockery of Elsa. So much like Anna… so much like her family. “At least two.” Though Anna would never say something so shameless.

 

“You mean…” Elsa reconsidered voicing her thoughts, but Ingrid’s thumb ran across the back of her hand, assuring her. This was her aunt. She was _safe._ “More than two people can…?”

 

Ingrid nodded. “Or less. Sex is a great deal _more_ than what’s contained in your books. Or at least the books that your parents have in their library. It’s not just a man’s member in a woman’s chamber…”

 

Elsa flushed at the casual way Ingrid had spoken of it. Euphemism or not, her ears burned. Sensing her shock, Ingrid smiled ingratiatingly and patted Elsa’s hand.

 

“I think of it as everything that leads to the bedroom, and everything that follows from that. It can be the touch of two hands—the conjoined slumber afterward—even the thought of someone who’s not present. You can even touch yourself as a lover would… bring yourself exactly the pleasure you desire.”

 

“That’s not… wrong?” Elsa thought her voice came out as a squeak, and was almost more embarrassed by that than by the question.

 

Ingrid’s laughter was deep and warm. “No. No, Elsa, no more than using your power is ‘wrong’. The older you grow, the more you’ll find that people are quick to make something a sin when they don’t understand it. Even if it’s beautiful.”

 

“Sometimes I’ve… in the bath, as I’ve washed, I’ve felt this stirring inside me. I thought perhaps it was my power, trying to get out?”

 

Ingrid smiled again. She did that so often. So quick to reassure Elsa. “In a way, perhaps it was. I’ve seen the paintings of you. Don’t you feel more powerful in that lovely gown than you do all bundled up like you’re trying to protect yourself from the world?”

 

“I suppose. But I don’t see…”

 

“Look at me, Elsa. I know my body is desirable. I know the attire I choose displays myself. It’s quite enticing to look at, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes,” Elsa admitted, feeling another warm flush descending on her.

 

“There you are. I have power over the people’s reaction to me. They may hate me, but they’ll also fear me, and also desire me. _I control_ how they think and feel, and in that way they’re unable to hurt me.” Another smile. It made the flush Elsa felt settle deep inside her, where she could stand it. “But there’s plenty of time for you to learn all that on your own. Or with a little help from your Aunt Ingrid.”

 

“Yes.” Elsa looked away, quick to occupy her hands. Picking up a roll, buttering it. “I’m sure… you’ve given me much to consider!”

 

“Only…” Ingrid idly scratched her neck, lost in thought. “Anna is already to marry, isn’t she?”

 

“Yes? What of it?”

 

“Well, you’re her eldest blood. Normally, it’d fall to you to advise her on her wedding night.”

 

“Wedding night?” Elsa repeated, thinking Ingrid surely could not mean what she seemed to.

 

“With Kristoff?” Ingrid reiterated. “The loss of her virginity… if he hasn’t had it already, that is—“

 

“ _My sister would never!”_ Elsa insisted, standing up, she was so offended, the food freezing on her plate.

 

Ingrid reached out to run her hand down Elsa’s arm where it was stamped down on the table. “Calm yourself, niece. I’m sure she wouldn’t. But I’m also sure men are very sly. And who really knows what has already transpired?”

 

“I do.” Elsa sat in a huff. “Anna will have a lovely wedding, and her wedding night will be—good.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Ingrid mollified. “Only… I’m sure it’s just because I don’t know him that well… the looks of that Kristoff man. So rough, so coarse… and Anna so young…”

 

“He will be very gentle,” Elsa said, in a tone that was less prediction than ‘if he knows what’s best for him’.

 

“I hope so. From what you’ve told me of her, Anna can be very… eager to please. I imagine that, without knowing the particulars of what’s expected of her—what’s to be done—she may simply go along with what Kristoff asks of her. No matter how painful.” Ingrid refilled her coffee cup. “But I’m sure I’m worrying over nothing. Kristoff isn’t like that, is he? He’s probably quite virginal himself.”

 

“Yes…” Elsa said. “Probably.”

 

Ingrid continued after a sip. “Even if he’s not… even if he’s experienced with whorehouses and brothels…” Elsa looked at her sharply. “Well, I’m quite certain he’d know better than to treat Anna in such a way. Like a whore. Simply because she wouldn’t know any better.”

 

Elsa could feel her fists growing tighter, tighter… “What if you talked to Anna? Told her how to… what to expect?”

 

Ingrid tittered. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly! A strange woman she’d never met, suddenly wanting to talk to her about the birds and the bees? No, no, not me! It’s not my place!” Again, she sipped her coffee, the steam that rose off it caressing her face. “It’s yours.”

 

“But I know—I know nothing of lovemaking or men or… I don’t know anything!” Elsa insisted, her last word spewing bits of frost as the air chilled around her.

 

“Well, you do have time. Anna away on her journey… you could learn the answers to every question she could ask.”

 

Elsa nodded to herself, her panic receding. Yes. She could be there for Anna, now, at the most important time, as she hadn’t been for so many years. She could make up for all that wasted time. “Will you…?”

 

“Help you?” Ingrid set down her coffee cup. “It would be my honor, Elsa. After all, what are families for?”


	2. Chapter 2

“I told you once!” Anna raised her voice. “Return me to Elsa! Right now!”

 

“Can’t, m’lady.” Rumpelstiltskin shrugged in mocking apology. “There’s some form of magic criss-crossing your whole lovely island. I could no more transport you there than you could push your hand through a wall.”

 

Anna guffawed. “Some Dark One! Not even as good as a decent boat—“

 

“Careful, dearie!” he chided, skin glistening as he lowered his head like a bull about to charge. “It’s one thing to be outwitted—such things happen now and then whilst you live thousands of years—but being _insulted?_ That compels one to hold a grudge. And while you may be safe, I’d be just as happy to pay back your offense on your children, your children’s children, your children’s children’s children…”

 

“No need for that,” Anna said hurriedly. “Maybe you could just put me nearby. I’m sure that wouldn’t be difficult for a sorcerer of your power…”

 

“Don’t flatter me now, the moment’s past! But, as it so happens, I can feel the magic weakening. In short order, I should be able to get you there, if you still want to go.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to go?” Anna asked.

 

Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “If you come home to an intruder in your home, the door locked to keep you out, and they say they’ll open it in a moment and let you in, would _you_ want to find out what they’re working on?”

 

“Elsa,” Anna breathed. “You have to get me to her. I don’t care how dangerous it is!”

 

“Very well, very well, little princess. No need to agitate yourself. I’ll have you there momentarily—how about a nice cup of tea while we wait?”

 

***

 

Elsa wasn’t sure quite what to do. Ingrid had told her to get comfortable with her body, but it was _her body._ How could she be uncomfortable with it? It was only her powers she was uncomfortable with, and even them she was growing familiar with.

 

She tried to make herself more comfortable than comfortable. Took a hot bath—which even she could enjoy—washed herself, combed the tangles from her hair. Then she tried touching herself how Ingrid had. In the place Ingrid had.

 

Nothing happened. It wasn’t unpleasant; there was a kind of tickle that resonated warmly up her stomach. She tried to rub harder and increase the sensation, but it only led to a painful cringe between her legs. She took her hand away, not sure what she was doing wrong. Not even sure what doing it right would entail. Anna was counting on her to know these things and once more Elsa was failing her.

 

In desperation, Elsa tried to do what she only half-thought she had seen Ingrid do. She extended a single slender finger and brought it inside her. It was tight, awkward—then a sharp jolt of pain had her whipping her arm away.

 

With a curse, Elsa froze the bathwater into brittle ice, breaking free of it as she rose. It came off her in sheets of snow. She looked at her body, pale and sharp, and thought of how useless it was. Even if she were beautiful as Ingrid, what good would it be? Her power was around her neck like a millstone—even if Arendelle needed a sorceress, they had Ingrid.

 

“Is it cold in here or is it just me?” Ingrid asked, looking the picture of royalty in the doorway, hands clasped in front of her just so, eyes concerned ever so slightly, mouth upturned in a just right smile of reassurance.

 

“Aunt Ingrid…” Elsa’s arms moved, not hugging herself, but slightly adjusting themselves to cover herself as much as she could without implying that Ingrid would care to look at her. They were both women, after all. Related. There could be no more lust between them than there could be between her and Anna.

 

“I thought I’d return your visit.” Ingrid stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. “And under similar circumstances, as well. I realize you’re not as liberal about such things as I am, but I thought compelled to step in before your frustration placed the castle right in the middle of a glacier.”

 

Elsa flushed with embarrassment as much as her icy skin was able. “I… I tried and nothing _happened._ How can I tell Anna anything about her body when I don’t even know a thing about my own!?”

 

“Calm yourself.” Ingrid waved a hand in the air. “The important thing is that you’ve tried. Now you know that you need help. Will you accept mine?”

 

“How can you help me? What do you know about my body?”

 

“Nothing,” Ingrid confessed. “But a husband knows little of a wife’s body on their wedding night. He learns. He deduces. She tells him, in her words and her gestures, her looks and her touch. Once you’ve learned how to read the signs, you’ll see them upon your own body as well as those of others. Like Anna.”

 

Elsa forced her hands to move, exposing herself as she brushed some ice crystals from her body. “All I want is for her to be happy.”

 

“She will be,” Ingrid promised her. “But first, let us attend to you. _Your_ needs. Your sister isn’t here, and you can’t help her unless you first help yourself. Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

 

She sat back, an icy chair springing up underneath her as she fell, catching her perfectly. A wave of her hand and the tub was filled with downy snow. Another gesture, and Elsa felt compelled to lay down in it. It was soft and soothing to the touch, like lying upon a million feathers. She marveled at Ingrid’s control over her power.

 

“Now, what did you think of on your last attempt?”

 

“Think of?” Elsa replied.

 

“The object of your desire? The person whose caress you felt in place of your own hands? Surely, there must be someone…”

 

Elsa steepled her hands awkwardly on her belly. “There’s been no one. Kings aren’t exactly quick to send their heirs courting me—not when they might get back ice cubes.”

 

Ingrid smiled knowingly; Elsa could imagine her having similar troubles and felt a brief flicker of kinship within herself. As frustrated as she was, at least she wasn’t alone.

 

“Their loss,” Ingrid said consolingly, reaching over to place her hand on Elsa’s bare shoulder. “But surely there must be someone you find attractive? A charming serving boy? A strapping young guard?”

 

“I’ve never thought of anyone that way,” Elsa confessed. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Like my powers. Like I was born—“

 

“There’s no more wrong with you than there is with me,” Ingrid assured her. “And I’ve taken many lovers.”

 

“M-many?”

 

Ingrid grinned at Elsa’s peaked eyebrows. “Well, perhaps not many. Suffice to say I’ve enjoyed myself. And very few of them ended up as ice cubes. Now, tell me who the most beautiful person in the kingdom is. Don’t think, just answer.”

 

“Anna,” Elsa said confidently. She could still see her in her mind, as vividly as the day she left. Her simple clothes only drawing attention to the ornate beauty of her face and hands. Her mischievous face, so open and yet with secrets tucked into every facet of her bright eyes. Her smile. Her smile that could shine through anything.

 

“Then think of her as you touch yourself.”

 

“No!” Elsa was shocked at the very idea, hugging herself tightly. “She’s my sister! My family! I couldn’t possibly—think of her in that way. Not when I’m doing something like _this_.”

 

“It’s not _real,_ Elsa,” her aunt assured her. “Just a harmless fantasy. You wouldn’t be hurting her any more than you could kill her in a dream. And it will help you. Wouldn’t Anna want to help you, if she were here?”

 

“Yes, I suppose,” Elsa conceded. “But not in that way. That wouldn’t… yield results.”

 

“Let’s just try it and see. For my sake?” Ingrid took Elsa’s silence as agreement. She picked up Elsa’s hand and moved it to her thigh. “Here. Rub this place. Think of Anna. Think of her naked body… so vulnerable, so frail.”

 

“I…” Elsa could see it. The freckles continuing down ruddy skin the color of a ripe harvest, The curves that Elsa had barely noticed developing in her long years of isolation, but now irresistibly drawing the eye. Her tender breasts. Her warm eyes. Her smile.

 

“She doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know what she wants,” Ingrid continued. “But you do. You know how to make her feel good. Run your hand over her body. Gently—lovingly. She’s so warm, isn’t she?”

 

Elsa bit her lip, feeling a need invade her body. As dire as she would need air or food or water, but this was between her legs, long-dormant, awakening hungry, demanding to be fed. She continued massaging her inner thighs, but the ache wasn’t coming from them. She moved her hands in between. Rubbed at the ache-that-wasn’t-sore, relieving it. Making it worse, somehow, too. No, more intense.

 

She shied away from the new sensation, gliding her fingers up her smooth body, trying to go back to the pleasant feeling that she’d rubbed into her thighs, but the stirrings died too quickly. She needed them back. She thought of Anna’s warm pink skin—how good it felt to hug her, to hold her hand, to kiss her cheek—touched herself where she was wet and just as warm.

 

“She’s so grateful to you, Elsa.” Ingrid had Elsa’s long hair in her hands now, stroking it with her hands as she stroked Elsa’s mind with her soft voice. Like a woman soothing a nervous cat. Or like Elsa remembered her mother touching her, in gossamer-fragile dreams that stayed with her for lovely moments before crumbling with the dawn.

 

Ingrid kept touching and talking, talking and touching—Elsa would’ve felt she’d been lulled to sleep if that place inside her didn’t feel so incredibly, so wonderfully _present._ “She sees how much you care for her. Finally, she sees the truth of your love for her. Can you see the tears in her eyes, Elsa, as she realizes you would do _anything_ for her?”

 

“I would,” Elsa moaned, trying once more to reach into herself, this time finding her opening graciously accepting the intrusion. It felt like she was made of ice and now warm water was covering her, making her _crack._ “I’d do anything…”

 

“Show her,” Ingrid said, her voice so insinuating, but her words so commanding. “Show her how much you love her. You’re the only one worthy of her. The only one who can protect her. You. No one else. Not Kristoff. Not Hans. _You.”_

“Me,” Elsa breathed. “I, I want to make her feel like this!”

 

“Why? When you can make her feel _better?_ Open your eyes, dear niece. Look at _me._ ”

 

Elsa did. In Ingrid’s right hand, ice had formed into a long, cylindrical shape. Almost a foot long. Shaped suggestively. Like the illustrations Elsa had seen, but harder, thicker, seeming powerful instead of inert. Threatening. Or promising. It even had veins running through its glossy surface. And Ingrid brought it to her lips, kissing its head, taking it into her mouth. Sucking. Tonguing. The sight doing things to Elsa—making her picture doing the same to Anna. That was how it worked, right? The mouth and tongue, in Anna’s private place.

 

Ingrid took the icicle from her mouth and Elsa just knew it was warm. As hot as ice could get. “Take it,” Ingrid said, and when Elsa did, it was like holding a torch in her hand. The end burning. Dangerous. She brought it down her breasts. Down her belly. Into the sparse white hair of her groin, holding its handle tightly, then using its warm head to open herself. Touch herself. She had no idea she could be so sensitive there. More cracks ran through her ice. She felt like she was melting—about to break apart.

 

“Show me what you’ll do to Anna,” Ingrid cooed.

 

Elsa obeyed. She stretched and parted and wrapped herself around the shape. It didn’t hurt at all. And it wouldn’t hurt Anna either. It would make her feel good. So good…

 

“Show me what Anna means to you,” Ingrid continued, eyes burning in her cold face.

 

Elsa’s breath rushed out of her in a whoosh, curling into white vapor like a snuffed flame. God, she could do this to Anna. Her head swam, imagining hovering over Anna the way Ingrid was hovering over her. Her body felt so prepared, like it’d been waiting to do this. Her sex held the icicle so snugly, so right.

 

Ingrid put a finger on her wrist, prodding the hand that held the icicle so it drew out of her. Elsa whimpered in protest, but was powerless to stop the dwindling of her pleasure. Ingrid had brought her too much joy for her to disobey her.

 

But then Ingrid curled her fingernail across Elsa’s skin, drawing it back with a pull of her crooked nail, and Elsa gasped as the icicle went back inside her. All the warm places inside her getting even hotter. Yes. In and out, in and out. Elsa pumped faster and faster, as fast as her body would allow, her sex trying to hold to the ice as it was pulled away, fight it as it returned.

 

“And, once you’ve taught Anna…” Ingrid applied the killing stroke. “Imagine her doing this to you.”

 

Elsa gurgled, her lips twisting to form words but only her throat able to make a sound. She couldn’t hold her head up any longer. She fell back to stare at the ceiling, the icicles forming, pushing down toward her like they wanted to be inside her too. Her mouth was wide open. Her eyelids dropped. She imagined Anna’s inner lips grabbing at an icy shaft, swallowing its cold length. She’d be even more heated than Elsa was. It’d be like fire and ice.

 

Her voice rose in a powerful moan—“Anna!”—her body twitched and convulsed like a snowflake fluttering down from a cloud—“Anna!” –she kept up the hasty motion as long as she could, even as her sex seemed far too sensitive for the self-inflicted onslaught—“Anna!”

 

But even the pain was exquisite.

 

 _“Anna!”_ she screamed at the top of her lungs, as potent as the song she’d sung to herald her freedom and magic, and her body was truly out of control and her magic was reversed and pure warmth was flowing out of her and the icicle had melted inside her and become a stream that gushed out of her in gulps of pleasure and it was like drinking mouthful after mouthful of spiced wine and she opened her eyes and Anna was there in a swirl of smoke and she saw Anna looking at her and she was still coming and Anna was still looking and it felt wonderful and it felt horrible and she looked down at her body’s like it was a stranger’s and Anna looked at her like _she_ was a stranger.

 

“What—what were you doing?” Anna asked. “Why were you saying my name?”

 

“I was… I had…”

 

“She was thinking of you,” Ingrid said, leaning back in her chair like she’d received as much pleasure from the interlude as Elsa.

 

“But I’m her…” Anna looked at Ingrid as if momentarily curious who she was, but then turned to a far more important matter—Elsa. “We’re _sisters.”_ She looked down at the water that had flown from Elsa’s body. It was melting into the snow beneath her. “We’re sisters!”

 

“It was just.” Elsa looked desperately to Ingrid, who was no help. “A harmless fantasy. Like a dream. I needed your… help.”

 

“I aroused you?” Anna demanded. “You thought of—you imagined me—and it aroused you?”

 

The words spilled out of Elsa like blood from a deep wound, catching Anna in their spray. Maybe that’s why her face was turning so red. “It’s because I love you, Anna! You’re the only one I care about—the only one I _want_ to care about! I want us to be together! I thought of us being together and it felt so good… it felt _right!_ I know it’s strange—”

 

“No. No, it’s not strange.” Anna gathered her hands in front of her like a ward. “It’s sick. And wrong. And I never would’ve thought you were capable of something like this, of asking me something like this. Don’t you… do you even see me as your sister?”

 

“Of course, I just see you as—more.”

 

“No, you don’t see me at all!” Anna yelled. “Otherwise, you never would’ve hurt me like this! I thought you were my sister, but you’re some kind of… pervert! And you actually thought—you actually _thought_ —that I would want this? Just throw away my life with Kristoff and be with you? Be your…” Her voice burned its way out of her. “ _Lover?”_

“Anna…” Elsa said helplessly. “It was the happiest I’ve ever been… imagining you feeling the same way.”

 

“Well, that will never happen. And if you still want to be my sister, I suggest you find a way to forget that you ever thought something so terrible. Because otherwise, I can’t even be around you. Not knowing _this_ is how you feel.”

 

She left, her boots cracking ice every step of the way, and Elsa couldn’t breathe. When Ingrid reached for her, the barest touch had her flung against Ingrid’s body, clinging to her, being held by her. Sobbing with her.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ingrid said, not ice but diamond, a strength that held Elsa upright as she broke apart. “If I had known… you still have me, Elsa. You’ll always have me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Elsa couldn’t think about it without feeling dirty. It was obscene. Sickening. Wedding bells chiming, all of Arendelle singing, after she had _told_ Anna how she’d felt. And Anna would still rather have that oaf than her. She felt monstrous again, wicked, but this time not because of what others thought. This time it was because of the anger lancing her own soul. How could Ingrid be so sweet and so understanding, this woman she had just met, while her own sister denied her?

 

Elsa felt herself getting colder, her slightest breath billowing into plumes of white. The familiar motes of ice filled her bedchambers, but there was nothing magical or sweet about them. They were grit from an explosion, sparks thrown off a fire. She saw icicles forming, an array of daggers growing from every nook and cranny. Elsa didn’t fight. She closed her eyes and let it happen, the ice covering even her, blood freezing in her veins, closed eyes frosting over, everything suddenly hard and cold and smooth.

 

The fire in her heart was finally out.

 

A knock at the door awoke her. She shifted and the ice broke away from her like sheets of glass. She looked around the ice-blasted room. The clock on her wall was frozen solid, but through the window, she could see the town’s Clocktower. Hours had gone. In the blink of an eye, the entire ceremony had passed. She’d missed it.

 

Elsa had never felt so relieved.

 

“Enter,” she called.

 

One of the porters came in, an admirable poker face keeping him from reacting to the devastation. “My apologies for disturbing you, your highness. Your sister is wed—we tried to reach you, but it seemed you were having… difficulties. Princess Anna decided to go ahead without you. She and Kristoff are departing now, if you’d like to visit with them before they leave.”

 

“Leave?” Elsa asked, still groggy from her icy slumber. “Leave where?”

 

“On their honeymoon, of course.”

 

Elsa felt the fire flare up again, worse than ever. No, _she_ wouldn’t be touching Anna, but that _man_ would, that annoying, blithering, crude, arrogant—

 

“That will be all,” she told the porter, and he quickly left. Frightened of her. As well he should be.

 

No more. She wouldn’t feel this way anymore. Once the honeymoon was over and the two lovebirds had settled in, then she could tolerate it, but not know, knowing his hands were on Anna, his lips…

 

She closed her eyes and let the ice come again. This time, she buried herself in it.

 

***

 

“Elsa? Elsa? Oh, what a relief—I thought my legs would cramp if I stood here any longer.”

 

Elsa blinked. Fresh air—cool but alive—lapsed across her body. She was covered in ice, but it was melting away. She could see it sluggishly pulling away from her, sweeping across the sloped floor, down into a grate that took it away.

 

Where _was_ she? Everything was white, as she’d left her bedroom, but this place was no ruin. It was cold, stark, but beautiful. Majestic. It put her in mind of the icy palace she’d made, but so much grander, more ambitious, the skill and artistry making a bold statement. It was Ingrid’s.

 

She stood before Elsa, lovingly leaning forward to brush the remainder of the frost from Elsa’s face. “I _thought_ you were ready to thaw. Why did you do that to yourself? You’re not experienced with this magic, my dear girl. You could’ve harmed yourself.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be a shame.”

 

Some of the ice remained, marring Elsa’s dress, interspersed with it like bloodstains. Ingrid left it there, leading Elsa to a well-upholstered couch, sitting them down beside a warm blazer. As much as Elsa liked the cold, she relished the change. Ingrid held her close and the fire lit them both.

 

“I just—wanted to miss the wedding, the honeymoon, all the… all the jabbering. It was too much. It hurt inside me. And then when I froze myself, the pain went away.”

 

“How do you feel now?” Ingrid asked her. Her hands were the perfect counterpoint to the fire’s warmth. Rubbing coolness into Elsa’s limbs before the heat became oppressive.

 

“Better. At least it’s done with. I can just… ignore it, now. Where is Anna?” A sudden panic gripped Elsa. “She should be here! Even with our differences, she would’ve waited for me night and day!”

 

“She did,” Ingrid assured her. “At first. But as time passed—well—she did have a kingdom to run.”

 

“A kingdom to run? It’s only been a few days, surely—“

 

“A few days? Elsa, it’s been six years.”

 

Elsa opened her mouth to call Ingrid a liar, but nothing came out. Only pain in a silent scream. Ingrid held her closer.

 

“She… she wouldn’t let me be frozen all that time, she would’ve done something, she would’ve thawed me…”

 

“She tried, sweet girl. She tried. But she would’ve done more harm than good. That’s why I brought you here, to my sanctuary. I knew you needed time. She visited, of course…”

 

“When? How often?”

 

Ingrid pursed her lips. “Less and less, as the years went by. She’s a very busy woman, your sister. She already has to juggle her family with the kingdom.”

 

“I’m her family!” Elsa protested.

 

“You are, but…” Ingrid took Elsa’s hands, squeezing them. “You’re also not. Anna has a new family now. Look.”

 

She turned to the mirror on the wall. Elsa did too. Even as she felt her heart break, all over again.

 

There was Anna, six years older, six years wiser. And Kristoff. And two small children, running and playing with her just as Elsa once had. But no ice magic. Nothing _dangerous._

“Their names are Karl and Jakob,” Ingrid said. “Or so I’ve heard. She hasn’t brought them here, obviously. In fact, it might not be a good idea for you to go to her. Not when she’s with them. She’s very protective of them. Won’t even let me visit. And she consulted the rock trolls quite frequently during her pregnancies to make sure they didn’t have magic. So, perhaps we could call upon Anna first and after she’s seen you, then—someday—you can see your new nephews.”

 

Elsa found tears rolling down her cheeks. Hot tears. Burning tears. An inferno running out of her eyes.

 

Ingrid wiped them away. Her touch was so cold. So wonderfully cold. “There, there, Elsa. Don’t cry. Your sister is very happy. Aren’t you happy for her?”

 

“I don’t have a family!” Elsa sobbed, falling into Ingrid’s lap—at least knowing Ingrid would let her, would stroke her hair instead of shrinking away from her touch. “I’ll never have a family… never have a husband or children… all I had was Anna and now she’s gone! She left me!”

 

“She didn’t _leave you,_ Elsa. It’s just… she’s so different from you. You never really had her in the first place, because she never really understood you. You’re a good person, Elsa, a loving person. I’m just not sure Anna is deserving of that love.”

 

“I hate her.” The words hissed out of Elsa like hot steam. It felt good. “I hate her! I wish she’d been born this way! I wish she knew what it was like!”

 

“She can’t, Elsa. No one can. Just us. And maybe, someday, your children.”

 

Elsa looked up at Ingrid, smiling down at her like it would all be alright. It wouldn’t be. It wasn’t _enough._ “Who would ever want to have children with me?”

 

“I would.” Ingrid cupped her niece’s chin, stroked a soft cheek with her thumb. “You’d be a wonderful mother. Look how you accepted Anna, even when she was so different from you. She was hardly so accepting. And you needn’t rely on a man to give you children. You’re powerful, Elsa. As powerful a witch as I’ve ever seen. With your magic, you could be with child. They would grow inside you, just as Anna’s did. Be born from you, just as hers were. And have magic, just like us. They could be ours, Ingrid. Yours and mine. I know I’m not Anna—“

 

“No. You’re so much better than her. You’re my family.”

 

Ingrid bowed her head. “You honor me.”

 

“How could we have children?” Elsa demanded. “I don’t want to wait a single minute. I want to feel them inside me. Sisters, just as Anna and I were. But raised properly. Not in fear, like our parents did.”

 

“Yes,” Ingrid agreed. “Your mother… never was the most accepting member of the family. I’m afraid her fear was passed on to Anna.”

 

Elsa shook her head. “Fear will have no place in our family. _Anna_ has no place in our family. It’ll be just us. Us and our children. Please, Aunt Ingrid, tell me how?”

 

“How does any child come to be? First, there’s an absence of clothes…” One hand touched herself, the other touched Elsa. Their clothes froze, becoming brittle ice that snapped with their heated breath. Elsa could already feel herself quickening. “Then a willing maiden.” Ingrid reversed their positions, throwing Elsa down on the couch, rising over her. “And finally, a certain… potency.”

 

Elsa looked down Ingrid’s body—her beautiful, enchanting body, like a promise of loveliness that Elsa might one day endeavor to—and saw the icy phallus extending from her crotch, one end inside her sex, the other protruding obscenely for Elsa.

 

Elsa comprehended instantly. It would join them, link their bodies. Ingrid’s magic would enter her with the ice. It would push into her womb and become children. Her children. Her and Ingrid’s. Their own perfect family. Only a part of her quailed, and Elsa hated that part, that part that still cried out for Anna, but still…

 

“I’ve never done this before,” she whispered.

 

“Oh?” Ingrid asked. “I watched you, Elsa, remember? With your hand? With the ice? This is actually a bit smaller…”

 

“You know what I mean. With someone else. Laying with someone as I would with a man. You’re going to lay with me… like a man would.”

 

“Yes. As you would’ve lain with Anna. I know I’m not her. But the same way you wanted to make her feel, I’ll make you feel. We’re family, after all. Family has to take care of each other.”

 

Elsa wet her mouth with her own tongue. Her eyes were already lost in lust. She reached down, afraid to touch her own sex, it was so hot. But she splayed her legs open and put her fingers to her labia and spread them far apart, open for Ingrid, and her aunt’s phallus bobbed as Ingrid lowered herself, the head inching closer and closer, touching her, entering her, then suddenly plunged inside her, thrust halfway inside her cunt.

 

Elsa screamed, writhing with pleasure, the slippery sensation inside surprising her.

 

“See?” Ingrid said. “You took it before. You can take it now. Just don’t be afraid. Remember, it’s only me.” Ingrid smiled and shoved the phallus deeper. “You never have to be afraid of me.”

 

Elsa whimpered in pain and pleasure. She wasn’t afraid. Ingrid was pumping into her and it felt good and it could’ve been Anna feeling good, it could’ve been both of them, but Anna didn’t want that, didn’t want _her,_ so now it was just the two of them and it felt so _good._

“It hurts,” Elsa whined, “but it feels good!”

 

“You deserve to feel good,” Ingrid whispered as she pressed the rod up to the hilt in her niece’s wet cunt. Elsa’s hips rolled in a spasm of ecstasy, a shockingly wet noise coming from their coitus, and Ingrid kept going, coupling her body with Elsa’s.

 

“Yes, yes,” Elsa moaned, her pain and frustration gone, only pleasure and desire left. The icy shaft had disappeared so completely into the marsh of her sex that not even a tiny section was visible. Looking at the mirror, Elsa could only see their pale bodies melting together. And then, another glimpse of Anna’s married life, chasing the children like _they_ were her family, like _they_ deserved her and not Elsa.

 

“Harder!” Elsa demanded. “I can take it!”

 

“Yes,” Ingrid agreed. “I do believe you can.”

 

Her hair was out of its bun, a sheen of gold polishing her back as she fucked the heavy shaft into Elsa, her niece arching her body upward, answering the challenge of Ingrid’s powerful thrusts. Their bodies clashed wetly, Elsa’s mouth fallen open, begging for a kiss that Ingrid withheld from her, preferring to let the deep sighs and low moans escape unencumbered. Elsa’s breasts heaved with each thrust of the phallus into her body, her nipples growing longer and harder with every kiss Ingrid bestowed upon them.

 

Elsa’s nails scratched across Ingrid’s back; her hands pulled that soft, supple body even closer, trying to get her aunt to drive herself harder into Elsa’s cunt. They fucked, venting all their need and frustration into the phallus that joined them, Ingrid breathing hard, Elsa squealing with delight. Their cold bodies blazed with sweat; the icy shaft glistened with Elsa’s wetness.

 

They stroked each other’s bodies as their sexes met, joined by the icy phallus. Elsa wrapped her white legs around Ingrid, pulling her in even tighter, needing the phallus fully sheathed in her even as she knew how pleasurable it was to have Ingrid thrust in and out of her.

 

She had never felt anything like the relentless pounding of the phallus into her, the riot of desire it produced inside. As much as she had enjoyed being hugged by Anna, holding her hand, it couldn’t compare to this. To Ingrid.

 

“Can you hear it?” Ingrid asked, and Elsa did. The phallus wedged into both their bodies, making sounds that were loud, wet—gushing. “I hear how much you _love it._ ”

 

Elsa’s cunt rushed up to meet Ingrid’s hard, driving thrusts. Her sex plastered itself to every inch of the ice as Ingrid bounced in needing rhythm, willingly skewering herself on the phallus enclosed in her slit. Constant shudders ran through the rich curves of Ingrid’s body as her end of the phallus lewdly jerked inside her.

 

She couldn’t resist anymore. She kissed Elsa, joining their bodies from their entwined legs to their tangled pubic hair, their kissing breasts to their heated gazes. They fiercely grinded against each other, Ingrid on top of Elsa, fucking so hard it seemed as if the ice would break. It didn’t. Ingrid bore down with it and Elsa thrust up to meet it, and it only got colder.

 

“We’re almost done, Elsa,” Ingrid said pleasantly. “You’re going to come. Then you’ll be mine. My child inside your womb, growing every day, until she finally arrives nine months from now and our family is complete. Do you like the sound of that, Elsa? Are you ready to bear my child?”

 

“Yes!” Elsa panted, her world the inescapable sight of Ingrid’s lustful grin, her swinging breasts, the sound of Elsa’s own groaning fleeing from her throat to fill the room.

 

Ingrid’s phallus lunged into Elsa’s swallowing cunt, over and over again.

 

“Harder!” Elsa begged. “Fuck me harder!”

 

“If I fucked you any harder, I’d be Kristoff. I’ve watched him fucking Anna. As hard as he tries, he never makes her come, the poor dear. But me, I just have to keep doing this. I know what your body wants. The same thing as mine, sweet girl. Would you like to learn this spell? Fuck me the way I’m fucking you? Fill my womb with a little Elsa to grow up with your own small one?”

 

Elsa’s body was imprisoned, strained by the controlled savagery of Ingrid’s strong thrusts. Icicle nipples pressed into each other. A sensuous film of sweat covered both their bodies. It froze and cracked as they continued to climb toward orgasm.

 

Elsa gripped Ingrid’s knotted shoulders as she pleaded with her. “Yes! Yes! Show me how to make our family bigger! Make me come! I can’t take it anymore!”

 

“Of course,” Ingrid grunted. “Anything for my family.”

 

She sent the phallus into Elsa harder than ever, leaving it buried to the hilt, knowing she’d made Elsa come.

 

And she had.

 

Elsa screamed at the top of her lungs, climaxing in a series of long, wet jolts that made her entire body sing. Time after time, she bucked up, clawing at Ingrid’s pale body, marking her white skin with scarlet lines until she went limp and Ingrid stretched back, pulling the phallus from her. It returned to water, splattering against Ingrid’s thighs, and she returned to Elsa, sprawling atop her newfound lover.

 

“Am I pregnant?” Elsa asked.

 

“Yes,” Ingrid told her. She put a hand on Elsa’s belly. “Our little princess. No bigger than a fingernail now, but soon, she’ll be the third part of our perfect family.”

 

Elsa gratefully turned them over, pressing Ingrid against the back of the couch and then steering into her embrace, letting Ingrid hold her more lovingly than anyone else in her family ever had.

 

“I wish you were my sister,” she said, and Ingrid smiled as fondly as ice melted when it was spring.


End file.
